Another Attack
by Sanguine Quill
Summary: Ever wonder exactly what happened that night Minerva McGonagall found poor Colin Creevey petrified by the staircase in CoS? This story can answer that for you. It's a response to the Hot Chocolate Challenge from the Yahoo AD/MM group, so it also obviously


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Disclaimer: Obviously, none of it's mine. If you don't know that already I suggest you lift up the rock you've been living under and get some sun.

AN: Ever wonder what exactly happened that night Minerva McGonagall found poor Colin Creevey petrified by the stairs in CoS? I did, so I wrote this as a response to the Hot Chocolate challenge posted at the Yahoo AD/MM group. It takes place during CoS (obviously) and there's plenty of AD/MM fluff (of course). Hope you enjoy. Please remember to R & R!

"Another Attack"

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By: Sanguine Quill

Minerva McGonagall placed a bookmark of red velvet in between the pages and closed her book gently on her lap. Her hands skimmed across the large, worn leather cover as she debated with herself whether or not to leave her bed and find Albus. Earlier, she'd left him alone in his office with a promise that he'd come to bed as soon as he'd finished documenting Gilderoy's latest mis-spell with Mr. Potter's arm after the Quidditch match. That had been two hours ago, though, and she hadn't heard from him since.

She wasn't going to be able to sleep knowing he was up there in his office, probably pacing in front of the fire, worrying and planning aloud to Fawkes; so she slid her book onto her nightstand, gently as if it were a child, and gave it a final pat before stepping out of bed. The candles burning in niches along the wall and on various other surfaces gave Minerva enough light to find the comfortable tartan robe she'd received a few years ago from her sister back home in Scotland and slide it on, knotting the belt tightly around her waist. Quickly, she pulled her hair back into a hurried version of the bun she wore every day and covered it with a hair net, then glided into her slippers and dropped her wand into her pocket.

The walk to Albus' office was uneventful. Argus Filch had been patrolling the corridors with even more ferocity since Mrs. Norris' petrification, and even the most daring students were terrified of being caught by him at this point. The ghosts, it seemed, were all elsewhere. Even Peeves wasn't making his usual racket, which, considering he'd just discovered what happens when a full suit of armor "falls" down a flight of stairs, was remarkable. The portraits were all sleeping soundly in their frames, some snoring quietly.

Minerva told the Headmaster's gargoyle the latest password and it sprang aside obediently, allowing the staircase to spin Minerva up to the oak door. After knocking once, she entered the Headmaster's circular office. The fire was dancing merrily and a sliver of moonlight was creeping in through a tall window, gilding the floor in silver and gold. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled so thoroughly that Minerva was sure they'd been charmed so as not to collapse. Odd tables sat around the room, covered in some of the knick-knacks Albus had picked up through his lifetime. His desk was large, sturdy, and absolutely trashed at the moment. Papers, quills, inkbottles, a book, photos, and a few other unidentifiable objects camouflaged it so completely Minerva couldn't see an inch of the polished wood surface. Fawkes was perched on the back of Albus' desk chair, tilting his head to the side. A pair of less imposing chairs for visitors sat facing the desk, and a more comfortable set reserved for friends was overlooking the fire.

And sure enough, just as Minerva had guessed, Albus was there, pacing back and forth on the rug before the fire. He didn't pause or even look over when she entered, nor when she closed the door behind her and leaned back against it. His long, slender fingers were twirling his wand idly while he walked back and forth, back and forth, back and forth . . .

Minerva finally sighed. "Albus."

"Hello, my dear," he said distractedly, continuing to pace. Minerva walked over to him and he paused long enough to rest his hand on her shoulder and drop a small peck onto her cheek. Then he began his march again right where he'd left off. Minerva watched him for a moment, but realized he wasn't about to stop pacing and decided to at least do something productive while she waited for him to calm down. So she walked over to his desk, sat down in his large, high-backed chair, and began to tidy up.

A few moments passed, with the only noise being the crackling fire, Albus' methodic footsteps, and the occasional note from Fawkes, just to remind everyone that he was still there. "I thought you'd be asleep by now," Albus finally said, pausing a few seconds to watch her organize his clutter. It was a task he completely despised, but thankfully one that Minerva found strangely therapeutic. More often than not he'd leave his messy office for awhile, only to come back to a clean, organized place and, of course, Minerva waiting patiently for him.

"And I thought you were coming to bed," Minerva remarked, raising her eyebrows at him in a silent plea for him to divulge what was bothering him.

"Well, my dear, it seems like we were both wrong this time," he replied, his eyes twinkling in the firelight.

"Albus," Minerva urged.

He sighed, his twinkle shrinking, and sank down into one of the soft armchairs facing the fire. Minerva's eyebrows descended, and her urging look morphed into one of soft sympathy. He was under so much stress, she knew, with all these new Chamber of Secrets worries piled atop his normal duties as Headmaster and Consultant for the Ministry. Not knowing what to say to ease his mind, she walked over and sat on the arm of his chair. He slid a securing arm around her waist and she draped one of hers over his shoulders and placed a tender kiss to the top of his head, then rested her soft cheek against it and gazed into the fire.

"I was just thinking about what's going to happen next," he said heavily. Minerva nodded, his white hair shifting beneath her head. "I can't help but worry that the Chamber could indeed be open again. If that's true . . ." he trailed off, shaking his head sadly. Minerva's heart was wrenching in her chest at the uncharacteristic despair in his voice, and it almost frightened her to hear him sound so depressed. Normally, he was the optimistic one in the couple, the one who leant support and hope no matter what the odds were. Now she had to assume that role, and she wasn't sure how well she could do it. 

Squeezing his shoulders tighter, she took his free hand in hers. "We don't know anything for certain yet, Albus. We can't jump to conclusions."

"I know, my dear, I know. But I can't help but remember what happened last time. I fear that if indeed this is all true, another student may suffer Miss Millhorn's fate. I can't let that happen again," he said, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. Minerva nodded. She had already graduated when the Chamber was opened, but she remembered reading about it thoroughly in all the papers. Myrtle Millhorn, the poor girl killed in the attacks, had made front pages everywhere for weeks.

"Albus, you couldn't have helped what happened then, and dwelling on it won't do anything. There's really nothing more we can do now," Minerva reasoned, pressing another kiss to the top of his head. "We both need sleep, Love. Staying up all night worrying will only make things worse. Come to bed," she whispered. Albus nodded and kept his arm around her as they stood, then pulled her in close. The warmth from her body seeped through her robes and his, and he allowed it to melt away all his other thoughts. She looked up into his eyes, blue as the summer sky and just as infinite, and the rest of the room faded away around them. Slowly, enjoying every second, he bent his head down until his lips met hers in a long, sweet kiss. They each savored every tiny movement of their lips until they finally parted. A small smile danced across both of their faces.

"I love you," Albus said, resting his forehead against hers.

"I love you, too," She whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. No matter how many times she said it, he still found it wonderfully unbelievable and couldn't help the smile growing on his lips or the twinkling dancing in his eyes.

"Go ahead to bed. I can't leave some of these papers lying about, but I promise I'll be there soon."

Minerva raised an eyebrow skeptically. "And wherever have I heard that before?"

Albus chuckled, "I assure you, my dear, I would never break the same promise twice."

Minerva shook her head doubtfully, but stepped out of his arms and with a final look back to him, left the office.

She was approaching the main staircase when she saw something lying on the floor up ahead. Curious, she quickened her pace slightly and peered through the dim torchlight, trying to make out what exactly it was. A few steps more and she realized what she was looking at. A sharp gasp ran through her lips as her heart seized in her throat and she broke into a sprint toward the figure lying at the top of the staircase. Skidding to a halt, she dropped to her knees beside the silent, still child. Colin Creevey, she recognized. One of her own. His tiny hands were holding the camera up in front of his face, poised to take a photo. His body was stiff as a corpse, but when Minerva laid her hand on his cheek, he was still warm as a healthy young boy should be. Which meant, Minerva realized suddenly, he hadn't been lying there long. 

And whatever attacked him was probably still nearby.

Jumping to her feet, Minerva ripped her wand from her pocket and positioned it in front of her, ready to attack. Slowly, she spun around, checking all sides but finding nothing. Then, off to her left, she heard a loud swishing noise, like something being dragged along the stone floors. It got steadily louder and Minerva was sure that whatever it was, it was coming towards her.

Hurried, running footsteps coming down a corridor to her right distracted her, however. She turned that way, only to see Albus rushing towards her, holding his wand with one hand and his robes with the other, so as not to trip.

"Minerva!" He shouted, quickening his pace. It took him hours to reach her, or at least that's what it felt like while he was running. By the time he came to a halt, he felt about ready to pull her into his arms and never let go, but she brought her finger to her lips and motioned him quiet and still before he could do anything. That's when he noticed what she had. That awful dragging, swishing noise was growing fainter. Whatever it was that had been coming towards her was now moving away. Albus felt a fresh wave of relief hit him as the noise faded away entirely, leaving them in silence. He smiled at her and asked, "Are you all right?" She nodded and breathed a sigh of relief. He took her hand and said, "I was on my way down to the kitchen for a couple of mugs of hot chocolate to bring back to our room when I heard that noise. I remembered it," his voice darkened, "from last time." He took a deep breath and his tone returned to normal, "I wasn't sure if you'd already made it back to our rooms or not, but I was afraid you hadn't. Thankfully, that thing or whoever controls it would rather avoid me."

Minerva nodded and brought his hand to her lips for a quick kiss before turning back to where Colin Creevey lay. She took a deep, steadying breath and the worried look returned to Albus' face. Then, for the first time, he saw something other than her, and his eyes blazed angrily, as he looked the poor child up and down. "Colin Creevey," Minerva explained as Albus knelt and began an examination similar to the one he'd given Mrs. Norris. "He's a first year, in my house."

Albus muttered a few things to himself as he scanned the boy's face and especially his eyes, then he stood. "Petrified," he confirmed darkly. Minerva nodded. "I wonder what he was doing up and about, though."

She looked around and noticed a bunch of grapes lying by his side. Realization hit her like the Knight Bus, and a small sob escaped before she could even try to hold it in. Albus looked at her, worry seeming to be permanently etched onto his face by now. "The grapes, Albus," Minerva managed, pointing to the bunch on the floor. "He's a friend of Potter's. I've seen them together. He was probably trying to sneak in to visit him."

Albus licked his lips thoughtfully and sighed while a single tear made its lonely way down Minerva's cheek. He brushed it away with his thumb and she leaned her head into his touch.

"At least you're all right," he said. 

Minerva met his eyes and gave him a small, grateful smile. "Because of you."

They paused a moment and gathered themselves before Albus stated, "We should get him to Poppy." Minerva nodded and they both crouched and lifted Colin between them.

"Albus," Minerva asked as they started toward the hospital wing, "does this mean . . ."

"I can't be sure, my dear," he answered, "but I'm afraid the Chamber of Secrets may indeed be open again."


End file.
